The 40th Games
by GirlBehindTheBook
Summary: "Do you know how it feels to always face death, Kellen?" My father asked me, taking the axe and hitting it against the large trunk of the tree. I shook my head confused as to why he was asking this. My father's hard green eyes shown. "Then learn, and do so quickly." He advised. Thinking about it, since the Reaping I can't help but feel my father saw this all coming.
1. Chapter 1

**(So this is my OC's experience in the Games...I came up with this idea while talking with my mum about my writing and this just seemed, interesting to write - please enjoy c:) **

**Prologue**

I sat perched in a tree, keeping my eyes studied on the ground below. The wind blew past, whipping at my dark hair rapidly, lifting it from my shoulders. I watched with steady green eyes as the large claw reached down, disappearing within the green forest below. It seemed to take a while - about five minutes or so - before it re-appeared, the bloody mass of a tangled body caught in its grasp, strips of skin keeping the body intact as it swung limply in the air. I struggled to recognise it, I couldn't tell if it had been male or female, if it had been a friend or a foe. Had it even been human?

The cannon had gone off only moments ago, eight of us left. That's what it had signalled, another death of another child. I clutched at the chain around my throat, twisting the small charm between my index finger and my thumb. I had gotten far, for someone in District 7, climbing trees had kept me alive and I subconsciously thanked my father for teaching me how to do such a little trick.  
I watched as the claw disappeared, taking the mingled mess with it. I glanced down, staring at the mud splattered boots that I wore. They weren't as practical as I thought they were in the beginning, they had become uncomfortable shortly after the Games had started. I moved my left hand down, tracing the handle of the dagger that rested in my belt loop. My final defence.

Quickly checking the ground again, I made the quick decision to leave the safety of the tree, thinking that it would be best for me to leave the vicinity before another death were to occur from the Game Makers boredom. I made sure my bag, that rested between my shoulder blades, was secure, my dagger tucked safely at my side, before I gripped the bottom of the branch with my gloved hands. I swung, landing lightly on the branch below, continuing this procedure until I was safely on the cold mud ground, leaves silencing my fall. I could tell they were watching me, seventeen years of watching these sick Games, caused me to know that the Capitol were watching me closely. The Girl that Hid in the Trees, I was special, even my own District Partner had not thought of such an evasive tactic. I started to head East, in the opposite direction of where the last body had been collected.

**BANG**! I froze as I heard another cannon go off, my whole mind going in a frenzy as I turned my head to the North. Another death so quickly? I knew that the Careerers, or what was remaining of them, were on the move.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: So after seeing the midnight Showing of Catching Fire I have felt the compulsive need to write more of my OC's story...So enjoy a little of Kellen)**

**Chapter One**

"Damn Capitol and their stupid Games!" My father snarled as he stabbed his fork into the small pile of meat on his plate. I glanced up at him quickly, worrying slightly at the distaste in his tone. Tomorrow was the Reaping, and I knew why he was angry. My mother on the other hand kept her green eyes to her plate. Cutting her potatoes carefully.

"Alex," she muttered calmly, placing a potato into her mouth and chewing, keeping her eyes down. I kept silent however, my input wasn't needed. My father glared across the small four seated table at my mother, his brown eyes shining with anger.

"Don't Alex me, Charlotte. You feel exactly how I do about this god-damned sport!" He yelled, violently attacking his food with his knife and fork. I flinched slightly, lowering in my seat ever so slightly as I began to push my food around my plate, not wishing to eat any more.

"No, you are correct Alex. I dislike the Games, as does most people in District Seven, but I will not have you insult them at the table. Nor will I have you place this family at risk with your foolish words." I froze slightly, holding my breath. I was appalled at my mother's answer. She had never spoken to my father in such a way. Her monotone voice still at its usual level, but the disrespect was so plainly there.

"How can you say that?! After all they've done to us Char! After what they did to him?!" My father was now on his feet. I could feel the tears in my eyes, all they ever seemed to do was fight these days, and more so at this time of year. I could feel the pressure mounting as my mother did not reply, and I knew why. My father had brought _him_ up.

_My brother had been five years older than me, and nobody understood how much I had idolised him. He was perfect and practically everything, the pride of District 7. He was kind and strong, brave and compassionate. But when he was only sixteen I stood in the crowd with my mother and father during the Reaping, clutching both their hands as I watched all the children crowd into their designated age group. My brother smiled over at me and gave me a small wave, and I grinned back, not knowing what was to come. Our District escort from the Capitol, a brightly dressed man stood up to the microphone….I had stopped paying attention for a while, getting bored. _

_I hadn't caught the name of the female tribute but I recognised her. She was my brother's age, with long blond curls and startling blue eyes. They were kind eyes, innocent eyes. She was crying though, the crowd muttered as they looked around for the girls' parents. She was well known in District 7, yes, but I couldn't even remember her name. She reached the stage and stood very calmly in front of everyone, as if tears were not streaming down her face. I remember the pretty pink dress that she wore. It reminded me of the flowers my mother grew in the window box. Next was the male tribute and a wash of relief fell over us._

_"Timothy Angus!" The name was one I recognised to clearly, I could hear the distressed call of a woman as a boy, the age of twelve, walked out from the crowd of children. He stood at the back, and I could see him clearer than I could the girl that had just gone up. He seemed more like he was in shock but he ignored his mother's anguished screams as he staggered to the stage._

_"I volunteer as Tribute." _

_I couldn't stop the gasp that came from me as my brother's voice rang out loud and clear. He had risen his hand, his brown hair falling into the green eyes so much like our mothers. I could feel my mother fall to her knees beside us as my father rushed to grab her, holding her up from the ground. I took my chance to rush forward; I needed to stop my brother from making such a stupid mistake._

_"Caleb!" I screamed, rushing towards them, arms wrapped around me, dragging me back as I started to kick and scream, reaching my short arms out for my brother who didn't even look back at me._

I glared at my father for bringing him up, my eyes shining with anger.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare use him as a weapon!" I growled, clenching my fists in anger. My mother looked up at me, my father too, looked at me, both raising a brow in slight shock. I never interrupted their arguments. From fear or from just wanting to stay clear of trouble I don't know which, but I preferred to keep away from it all.

"Kellen, speak when you are spoken to." My father muttered his voice far calmer with me than it was with my mother. I shook my head, my brown hair flying into my hazel eyes.

"No! I refuse to sit here as you use my brother as a tool to win your argument. None of us forget what happened Dad, and it isn't fair! Don't you understand I need to be the one in the Square tomorrow, with the risk of being Reaped. Not you, not mum! So do not dare bring my brother up like that again!" I stopped to catch my breath, realising how much I had sounded like my brother, the way he would keep the calm in our house. My mother and father both kept their eyes trained on me before my mother sighed, standing to place her hand on my shoulder.

"Kellen, my love, I'm sorry." For a moment it sounded real, sounded as though she actually felt something, but ever since Caleb, my mother hadn't felt a single emotion. I merely nodded, smiling slightly at her.

"Do you mind if I go to bed early?" I asked her quietly, she merely shook her head, her long dark curls were such a similar colour to Caleb's I could almost cry. Each day I looked at her, and all I could think about was my brother. With a nod of consent from my father I left, not bothering to look back at either of my parents.


End file.
